A/N- I Do Not Own Harry Potter
Nymphadora Tonks had a dilemma. She didn't know why, nor did she really care at this point, but she had found herself daydreaming about Harry Potter all day. She suspected that it had something to do with her dream last night, combined with Hadrian's order to teach him to dance. But shortly after sending Harry a letter asking him to meet her at the Room of Requirement after dinner, she came to a stunning revelation.
She was falling in love with him.
And this posed several problems. One, She was almost seven years older than him. Two, she was technically his teacher. And the third and perhaps biggest problem, she had no idea how he felt about her.
She knew he cared, he admitted that while he carried her to the Hospital Wing after Hadrian's first lesson. But she didn't know how he cared. Did Harry see her as a friend? A big sister? Or even, hope beyond hope, a love interest?
And if, by some miracle, he actually was interested in her that way, what could she do? She was his teacher, and last time she checked, they couldn't even have a relationship until he graduated. By which time they may no longer feel the same about one another.
Tonks rubbed her forehead. Of all the guys in the world she had to crush on, it was one that she couldn't date.
And now she was expected to give the boy private dancing lessons, ALONE, for at least three months probably more. And a few of those dances were practically clothed, standing up sex. Well not actually sex, but that wasn't the point.
As she ate her lunch in the privacy of her room, she was positive the universe was trying to kill her.
As Harry made his way to the Room of Requirement after dinner, he wondered what Tonks wanted to meet him for.
Expecting that she wanted to talk to him about something, he was surprised to find what the room had become.
Instead of a nice plushy couch or chairs, the room had a polished wooden floor and a mirror and handrail off along one wall. Tonks was sitting in a metal folding chair. And, judging by the way her leg was moving up and down, seemed agitated.
"Tonks," Harry said trying to get her attention.
The pink haired woman looked up and smiled nervously at Him. "Hello Harry," she said as she stood up. "Um...Hadrian has given a job to do."
"And what job would that be?" Harry asked confused.
"I have to...well, teach you to dance."
"WHAT?" Harry yelled. He didn't mean to, it was a knee jerk reaction. Why the hell did he have to dance? What did dancing even have to do with dueling?
"I am going to teach you to dance," Tonks said slowly. "And if your afraid that I'll step on your toes, don't be, I'm actually quite graceful."
Harry snorted. "This coming from the woman who trips over flat surfaces."
"Yeah, it's all an act," Tonks said sheepishly. "I'm not really clumsy at all, but one of the things Hadrian taught me was to mislead people so they underestimate me."
Tonks shook her head. "By acting clumsy all the time, people don't think I'd fair very well in a fight. But the when I do fight, I quite being clumsy, catching my opponents off guard." She clapped her hands together. "But we're not here to talk about me. You are going to learn to dance, very well."
"One question, Why?"
Tonks smiled. "I asked Hadrian the very same question when he taught me. In dance, you have to be aware of your surroundings, so that you don't step off the dance floor, or into another couple, or on your partners feet. In battle it's much the same, you have to be aware of your surroundings. Also, dancing teaches you to move gracefully, which apparently also comes in handy during battle."
"Okay," Harry said slowly. "So where do we start."
As Harry collapsed into bed, he couldn't get his dancing lesson out of his mind. Or more specifically, his dance instructor.
Tonks had worn a fairly tight t-shirt and jeans for the lesson. Hell, he was able to make out the outline of her bra standing so close to her. He honestly thought she looked so much better than any of the girls he had seen at the Yule Ball, and she wasn't even trying. What annoyed him though was that he hadn't felt at all guilty when he held Parvati by the waist at the Yule Ball, but yet he did when he held Tonks waist.
Of course that may have been because he kept thinking about how close her ass was to his hand, and how nice her breast were, but that was beside the point. And he really couldn't help it if his teacher was Hot.
Wait a minute, did he just think that Tonks was hot. Sure he'd thought it before, but he admitted now that it didn't do her justice. She was more than hot, Tonks was the most beautiful creature on the planet.
No, he didn't just think that. Perhaps it would be better if he went to bed. Yes, that would erase all his traitorous thoughts.
Both Tonks and Harry had very graphic dreams involving one another. Both involved a lack of clothing. Both involved highly explicit sexual acts. And both involved love and care, at least in a few.
Both Tonks and Harry had a very good nights sleep, despite having to take long, cold showers in the morning.
Bellatrix Lestrange sat in her room at Malfoy Manor. Her long black hair, once bright and vibrant had dulled during her time in Azkaban prison. Her blue eyes, once bright with happiness and hope had also dulled.
She sighed. She had traded one prison for another. Although Malfoy Manor was infinitely more comfortable than Azkaban, it was still a prison. She couldn't leave to go anywhere, she couldn't really do anything she had once found fun.
She looked down at the Dark Mark on her forearm. She wondered if it was worth it, taking the Mark. Once, she truly did believe it was. When she took the Mark, she thought she would be making a difference, eliminating the mudbloods that perverted wizarding society. Now, she reconsidered. All the Mark had brought her was fourteen years in Azkaban, a loveless marriage, and her deepest regrets.
She sighed. Her husband would be joining her soon. The Dark Lord was planning to liberate his followers from Azkaban shortly.
Hadrian had been right to leave her.